


Untitled

by flashindie



Category: Bandom, The Cab, The Hush Sound
Genre: Boys Will Be Boys, F/M, Gen, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashindie/pseuds/flashindie





	Untitled

Singer totally loves The Hush Sound. Seriously, he does. They’re great to tour with, like, funny and nice and Darren takes all of them under his wings of awesome, embraces them, which Singer thinks is probably mostly because this is one of the first tours they’ve done with a band younger than them. 

The point is, Singer totally loves the Hush Sound. He feels the need to point this out every time Johnson leaves their van to hang out with them. 

“No, dude, I totally love the Hushies,” Alex says, and he doesn’t blink when he says it, stares with wide eyes at Cash and maybe nods his head a little. For emphasis. Cash snorts, mostly because he’s an asshole, and Johnson just squints a little, says, “Good, dude. I’m glad.”

“I do,” Singer says, and he nods again. “In fact, I’m going to go with you to hang out with them right now. Because I love them.” Cash actually does laugh at that and Singer tackles him, like, really badly and they both crash into one of those fold-up chairs. Cash swears because his mother failed at raising him proper, and Singer totally bites him because that’s how his five-year-old sister taught him to fight. 

There is a pair of awesome legs in his eye line mega quick, and he glances up to see Greta bending over to look at where they lie like, collapsed all over each other. Singer flails a little for show, and Greta tilts her head, grins. 

“Aim for the crotch,” she says. “I swear that move has never failed me.”

Johnson totally laughs and that’s dumb because Johnson doesn’t laugh at anything ever and Singer just moves to glare at Greta’s stupid pretty face. Cash must use this as an invitation or something, because he rolls them over and squishes Singer beneath his fat ass. 

Johnson rolls his eyes at them, and glances back up at Greta, rubbing the back of his head with his awesomely long fingers. He clenches his eyes shut for a second, clears his throat and says, “You want to hang out?” and Greta grins, nods and they frolic off into the sunset to get married and have babies and go to SeaWorld to see Shamu. Singer pouts, because he’s left with Cash and no Johnson like, at all. 

“What’s she got that I don’t?” he mumbles, and Cash quirks a brow down at him.

“A vagina?” he says. “Tits? Levels of awesome not oppressed by moron-ness.”

Singer rolls his eyes. “Moron-ness is totally not a word.”

“Your mom’s not a word.” 

Singer just sighs, because there’s totally no comeback for that. Cash groans, drops down bodily on top of Singer and says, “Fuck off, you can seduce Johnson later with your stupid everything. We should find someone’s tour bus and play ‘Mortal Combat’.”

“Yeah, okay,” Singer says, but only because Cash is really shit at ‘Mortal Combat’ and winning always makes Singer feel better.


End file.
